


fuck the monarchy

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Begging, Bodyguard Daichi, I blame the kurodai server entirely for this, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prince Kuroo, Royalty AU, Tied Hands, have 8k of kuroo's smart mouth getting him what he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25551106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Prince Kuroo Tetsurou pisses off his bodyguard one too many times, and suffers (enjoys) the consequences.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 32
Kudos: 254
Collections: yaela's smut fics!





	fuck the monarchy

**Author's Note:**

> my first real pwp *jazz hands*
> 
> quick note: the beds have headboards but they wear Japanese style clothes, so idk where the hell this fic is set - anyway pls do a quick google search for juban so you know what it looks like, and if I picked the wrong type of Japanese undergarment to write in this fic let me know :)
> 
> Enjoy!

_There really isn’t a more aggravating creature in existence than Prince Kuroo Tetsurou_ , Daichi thinks savagely, his eyes fixed steadily on the wall opposite as his noble employer slips his court robe off his shoulders.

“I’m going to take a bath,” Kuroo says carelessly, stepping out of the heavy folds of embroidered cloth pooled at his feet, clad in nothing but a thin juban. “You will wait for me, Sawamura.”

“Yes, your highness,” Daichi replies evenly, and only allows himself to grit his teeth once the bathroom door closes. This is the sixth fucking time in three weeks. He’s doing it on purpose, the _bastard_.

Usually he would content himself with thinking some choice insults at the prince (insults that would likely get him beheaded if they were ever said aloud) and let it go, because he quietly prides himself on being both a patient and compassionate person. He understands that the man he has been assigned to guard bears heavy responsibility on his shoulders, perhaps too heavy for one not yet past twenty-five. He understands that a naturally sharp and mischievous mind, curbed by too many duties owed to too many people, requires some time now and again to let loose. He understands that meeting upon tiring meeting for weeks on end as neighboring kingdoms grow stronger and hungrier results in a surfeit of both tension and forced diplomacy, one that would wear down even the most even-tempered of people. He understands, therefore, that the prince would be fully within his rights to make life difficult for his guards sometimes, and would probably have encouraged it himself if his prince had been more like the ruler of Dateko, the one with the shy smile and ruffled, curly hair who never fails to give Daichi a nod whenever he visits Nekoma.

Kuroo, of course, is nothing like Prince Moniwa, and certainly doesn’t need encouragement to be difficult. Still, if all it had been was a little difficult behaviour, Daichi would have dealt with it. Slipping past them to go hunting, refusing to turn up for his sparring sessions, ditching them in town to visit the markets - or even the red light district, why not - all of that, Daichi would have been able and willing to accept, because his prince is deeply compassionate and rigidly just when it comes to his people. He does what he must and he does it well, which is something Daichi respects.

So he could have made allowances. How Kuroo has chosen to act out, however, is subtle, quiet, and poses no threat to his safety, yet sets Daichi’s blood boiling every goddamn time. He has expressive eyes, this prince, and a smirk that makes Daichi want to either slap it or kiss it off his face, and a body that, well . . . Daichi has had a lot of practice at rigidly controlling thoughts about Prince Kuroo Tetsurou’s body that would _absolutely_ get him beheaded. So he really should have been decently prepared for when Kuroo started to dart teasing little glances at him, when he started to spar shirtless, when he wore those robes with slits high up the sides and fucking _purred_ as he asked for Daichi’s opinion, when he started to do a hundred different things that had Daichi desperately thinking of cold water and ugly frogs and piles of garbage so he wouldn’t be standing behind the throne half hard when court was in session.

But he wasn’t prepared. He still isn’t, and still the prince chooses to torment him. It’s been nearly six months now, ever since that scare about Fukurodani invading in the spring that thankfully led to nothing - six months of artfully bitten lips and revealing clothes and Kuroo’s voice always dropping into a low, smooth murmur when they’re alone together.

Daichi pinches the bridge of his nose briefly, sighing. And of course, he’d have to start pulling all this shit when Daichi’s old partner Kai had been promoted to captain of the palace guard and he’d been saddled with eager, clumsy Lev. The boy has potential, to be sure, but it will take him many months of hard work yet to reach it, and Daichi has enough on his plate without having to handle him.

And today, today had been even worse than usual. Nekoma had hosted Fukurodani for a week, an event to commemorate the new treaty, and today had been the farewell banquet. Daichi had been standing behind the prince’s chair the whole goddamn day, watching him get drunk with Fukurodani’s Prince Konoha, watching them with their hands all over each other as they laughed and flirted. He’d nearly left fingernail marks in his palms when Kuroo had leaned forward to lap a little spilled honey off of Prince Konoha’s wrist, his quick tongue unbelievably deft, unbearably arousing. Kuroo had licked that honey off in a second that felt like an eternity, and had caught Daichi’s half-horrified, half-burning gaze from the corner of his eye, and had had the damned audacity to _wink_ at him.

And now Kuroo leaves him waiting for him in the middle of the room, tired, frustrated and irritated, while he takes his own sweet time bathing. Perfect. Just perfect.

He realizes his knuckles are white from the grip on the hilt of his sword, and forces himself to relax, forces himself to breathe deep and slow. The prince will come out, and tell him whatever needs to be told about tomorrow, and probably try something else to piss him off in the process, but he’ll keep it together, keep the conversation short, and get the fuck out. It’ll be fine.

Daichi manages to believe that right until the prince steps out in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, stray droplets of water still gleaming on his tan skin.

Suddenly it’s a lot harder to keep his breathing steady.

“You didn’t have to stay standing, you know,” Kuroo says, a little amused, walking across to the bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“I’m fine, your highness,” Daichi says. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Check with Kai about the results of the palace guard’s sweep, I want to be sure the owls haven’t left anything nasty behind for us. Especially their general, he seems too sharp for his own good.”

“They’d hardly do anything like that on the day of the peace banquet, your highness.”

“It’s just to be sure.” Kuroo crosses his long legs out at the ankle. “I wouldn’t trust Akaashi Keiji further than I can throw him.”

“As you wish. Will that be all?”

He stretches his arms out over his head, wincing as his shoulders stretch. “You will allow me to skip sparring tomorrow, and refrain from chiding me. This week has not been easy. I would appreciate a day of rest.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Kuroo leans back on his hands and closes his eyes as he sighs, head tilted so the lovely expanse of his bare neck is on display. Daichi swallows as a drop of water slides from his hair, down his jaw, his neck, reaches his collarbones, slips further down -

_Snap out of it!_

He wrenches his attention back to the conversation, and a hot shiver flashes up his spine at the almost predatory gleam in Kuroo’s eyes.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you break, Sawamura,” he says, and he sounds significantly pleased, his lips curling upwards. “Tiring day today, hm?”

“I don’t know what you mean, your highness, but yes, it was a tiring day,” Daichi answers stiffly. “Which is why I would appreciate it if you’d allow me to go and rest.”

“Boring,” Kuroo says, lazily running a hand through his hair. “I can think of a hundred enjoyable things you could do instead.”

“I’m sure, but -”

“And I think you know exactly what I meant when I said you broke.”

The sentence is soft and low and barbed, daring Daichi to reply, to deny it. He can’t break Kuroo’s gaze, not for a second, not even when Kuoo gets to his feet and comes towards him. He stops with less than a foot between them, and Daichi goes still, so still he doesn’t even know if he’s breathing, as Kuroo’s fingertips come to rest on his cheek.

“You do know,” Kuroo whispers. “Don’t you?”

His heart is fucking hammering in his chest, Kuroo is so close, looking down at him with those amber, half-lidded eyes, and arousal is pooling in his gut so fast it’s unbelievable. He can smell Kuroo’s skin, fresh and clean from the bath, the scent of his towel, something faintly reminiscent of rosewater, and he swears he can almost feel the heat of his body -

\- and then Kuroo smiles, just a little. That goddamn satisfied smile, that _I’ve caught you_ smile, that _I knew you’d fall for it_ smile, that smile he gets when he knows the upper hand is his, and Daichi -

Daichi thinks, _You **bastard**_ **.**

He grabs Kuroo’s shoulder and yanks him sideways, forcing him to stumble forward and around. Kuroo’s back hits the wall, and Daichi slams the wrist of the hand that had touched him by his head, glaring up at him, so angry and so aroused that he nearly snarls when he speaks.

“You - how dare you? How _dare_ you?”

“What -” Kuroo’s eyes are wide, startled. “Sawamura, calm -”

“If you tell me to calm down, I’ll rip your throat out with my fucking teeth,” Daichi snaps. “I’ve put up with your - your teasing, your flirting, all the stupid _bullshit_ you’ve pulled for so long, and you dare say ‘Oh, you broke,’ like I’m some - some experiment? You might be a prince, but you don’t get to treat me like a - a _toy_ , understand? Tease the bodyguard and watch him get angry, I’m sure it’s fun for you, but if you play with me one more time I’ll make you regret it!”

“Okay, okay, I hear you, just -”

But it feels too good to let it all out now, the growing frustration of months. Daichi can’t stop himself, and doesn’t care enough to try. “Apologize,” he says, stepping closer, almost growling. “Apologize, and stop doing this. Find your fun somewhere else. Not with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo says instantly, his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, Sawamura. I didn’t mean to make you feel like - I just wanted to -”

“I don’t care what you wanted,” Daichi says, turning away from him as something cold settles in his chest, as he thinks, _You didn’t really want me, anyway_.

God, he could get into so much trouble if anyone ever heard about this. The anger is simmering down slowly, making space for worry to creep in. The prince seems apologetic, so there probably won’t be official repercussions, but if Lev, standing guard outside the room and probably doing his best to hear as much as he can, caught the wrong words and opens his mouth in front of the wrong people - fuck, Daichi could lose his job, he could be flogged, how could he have been so stupid?

But he’s gone this far, he isn’t likely to ever get the chance again, so he might as well end it on a satisfying note. “I doubt you could handle me anyway,” he tosses over his shoulder, walking to the door, and he sounds like ice even to his own ears. “But thank you for the apology. Good night, your highness.”

“What - hey!”

A warm hand closes around his arm, tugging him around. “I couldn’t handle you?” Kuroo says. No smirk this time, but something is starting to burn in those eyes at the challenge.

“No,” Daichi says shortly, lifting his chin. “Not many people can.”

“I could.”

Daichi almost laughs in his face. “Could you, now?” he says, and figures that since the prince’s long fingers are still wrapped around his arm, touching is on the table. He raises a hand to the back of Kuroo’s head and grips the hair there, tight enough to serve as a warning, and a hiss escapes Kuroo as he tugs, forcing him to tilt his head back. He leans a little closer to his ear, murmuring, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. If I wouldn’t lose my job for proving it, I’d show you, but -”

“You won’t, I guarantee it.” Kuroo’s hand is snaking around his waist now, pulling him forward so they’re flush together. “So show me.”

He’s serious, Daichi realizes. He’s not teasing. It’s a serious request. He loosens the grip in Kuroo’s hair enough that he can look him in the eye again.

“You mean that? You want me that badly, your highness?”

To his surprise - and delight - a hint of red blooms in Kuroo’s cheeks. He glances away, and Daichi can't hold the laugh back this time.

“Look at that, you really do!”

“Shut up,” Kuroo says, but there’s none of his usual bite to it.

“I’m flattered, your highness, but I don’t think -”

The words die in his throat as Kuroo’s thigh shifts between his legs and presses up, hard. “Show me,” he says again, without a hint of hesitation.

And Daichi finally, finally breaks.

“Bed,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Now.”  
  
Kuroo obeys like he’d been waiting for it, climbing onto the bed and lying on his back as Daichi quickly strips off his sword, his dagger, the outer robe with the royal crest emblazoned on the back. Daichi keeps his eyes on him, reveling in being allowed to look his fill, in being able to drink in every line of his prince’s body without having to hide it. Bare apart from the towel, three small gold rings gleaming in each ear, tracking every movement Daichi makes like he’s committing it to memory, and his eyes dark with want that mirrors Daichi’s own as he waits for him.

God, Daichi can’t remember the last time he felt this powerful.

“On your stomach,” he says, loosening his own juban but leaving the tie knotted at his waist. Again, Kuroo obeys without question. Daichi moves to straddle his back, right hand pushing his head into the mattress, the other planted next to his arms - and hesitates.

Kuroo’s hands are clenched in the sheets, and his shoulders are half-tense, even though his eyes are closed and he seems perfectly relaxed otherwise. Daichi pauses for a moment, watching him breathe. From what he knows of him, the prince seems like someone who would be attentive and considerate in bed, but would also enjoy provoking his partner, and provoking them repeatedly.

Which is perfectly fine by Daichi, because he very much likes both taking control entirely, and giving in entirely. Most of his previous partners have tended not to match either preference, however, so he’s learned to be fine with something in between, a give and take. He’s learned to adjust. Right now, however, he’s struggling to hold back the urge to rule Kuroo just like Kuroo rules his kingdom, to hold him down and take exactly what he wants because he’s owed it, dammit, after everything Kuroo’s done. He’s told Daichi what to do long enough - on this one night, this one time, Daichi wants more than anything for it to be the other way around, to see the prince of the land bend to his will without question, without argument, to be able to take him exactly as he chooses to.

Besides, Daichi knows how sweet and freeing that kind of loss of control can be, if the one taking control knows what they’re doing and how to do it, and he’s half-inclined to believe Kuroo - always calculating, always thinking, always hardworking Kuroo - would also enjoy it greatly, particularly right now. But that enjoyment will be marred if Kuroo isn’t relaxed, if he doesn’t feel safe, and he wants Kuroo to feel nothing but pleasure.

“Kuroo,” he murmurs, leaning down to press his mouth briefly to the back of his neck before shifting to the shell of his ear, letting the same iron enter his voice that Kuroo uses when he addresses the court. “I don’t intend to be gentle with you - not with what I say, not with how I touch you, not with what I do to you. So if you’re uncomfortable with anything, anything at all, you will not hesitate to tell me to stop, and we will not proceed until you’re sure you’re fine. Is that clear?”

“So bossy, Sawamura,” Kuroo says, his shoulders relaxing, and Daichi can hear him smiling even with one cheek squished into the pillow. “I like it, it’s a good look on you.”

Daichi presses his head down a little harder. “Is that _clear_?”

“It is.”

“Good.” Daichi leaves his right hand on the back of Kuroo’s head, and trails a finger down the nape of his neck. His skin is still cool from the bath. “You’d do well to remember who’s giving the orders tonight.”

Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, the tiny hairs golden in soft lamplight, and Daichi feels Kuroo’s back curve a little under him, his hips shifting.

“Oh, you like that. How long have you wanted me to do this to you, hm?”

Kuroo keeps stubbornly quiet. Daichi lets his fingers skim down his side, across his back and up his spine, sinking into his hair for a second before dipping back down again. “You know,” he says, almost conversationally, “not answering me would not be a good idea, your highness. I can keep you here as long as I like.”

“You’re not doing a whole lot yet,” Kuroo says.

Daichi shifts his weight, reaching back to drag a fingertip up the inside of Kuroo’s thigh and over the curve of his ass, light enough to be almost ticklish. Kuroo jerks a little under him, his grip on the sheets tightening.

“Insolence is not a good idea either,” Daichi says softly. “Answer the question.”

“Months,” Kuroo says, with evident reluctance. “A long time.”

“About the time you started your infuriating little game with me?”

“A few months before that.”

Daichi stills. “Oh? Enlighten me, your highness. For someone who has no difficulty finding partners to take to bed, what made you choose me?”

Kuroo curses quietly. “Do we have to do this?”

Daichi nudges his nose behind Kuroo’s ear, giving him no warning before sinking his teeth into the soft skin there. Kuroo yelps, his body jerking again.

“I won’t tell you again, Prince Kuroo,” Daichi says against his skin. “Answer me, or you’ll regret it.”

“Fuck - I don’t know, you were -” Kuroo’s shoulders are tense in a different way now, his body strung tight under Daichi’s as Daichi bites at the back of his neck, nips at his earlobe, brushes his lips down the line of his spine. “You were just - it was like you decided to take a step past the boundary that separated you from me, you - gave me real advice on tactical decisions when I asked as a joke, you started to ask how long I was sleeping, you showed actual - concern for my wellbeing, you weren’t just - just around to protect me from physical injury. I didn’t pay much attention to you before then, I thought - you were like the others, but that made me notice you, made me - appreciate what you could do, and - you were _real_ , more real than the bodyguards I’ve always had, men and women who couldn’t - hold a conversation - if their life depended on it - and you were hot as _fuck_ when we - sparred - ah, Sawamura, that’s -”

“Good?” Daichi sits back, watching the last of a series of purple bruises bloom on Kuroo’s skin.

“Yes,” Kuroo breathes.

Daichi runs a gentle hand through his hair for a second, taking in what he said. He remembers thinking, almost a year ago, that someone ought to help the prince deal with everything that had been dumped into his lap, remembers deciding to fly in the face of everything he’d been taught about keeping his distance as bodyguard to offer the prince what little support he could. It had apparently been appreciated more than he realized.

 _And paid off fairly well, too_ , he thinks, smiling to himself as he reaches down to slip a hand under Kuroo’s body, past the towel and between his legs. Kuroo makes a choked sound in his throat, eyes squeezed shut, and presses down against him. He’s beautifully hard, hot and wanting in Daichi’s palm.

“Good boy,” he says into Kuroo’s hair, letting his voice drop low in his chest, and Kuroo makes another choked, pretty sound as Daichi shifts position to fully lie along Kuroo’s back, his free arm braced by Kuroo’s head and legs on either side of his hips. “I like that answer. See what happens when you listen to me?”

“Sawamura -” Kuroo breaks off with a gasp as Daichi rolls his hips down, hard and sudden.

“Yes, your highness?” Daichi says, not bothering to try to keep the grin out of his voice.

“You _bastard_ -”

Daichi grinds down against him again, even harder this time, and Kuroo’s voice is lost as he bites the pillow. “Another rule,” Daichi says, setting a relentless pace. “Be polite, your highness. Courtesy is the hallmark of royalty, yes?”

Kuroo groans into the pillow, arching so his ass presses against Daichi before Daichi forces his hips back down, letting Kuroo fuck into his hand over and over again. Kuroo takes it for a good few minutes before he tries to spread his legs a little more, tries to get some leverage with his knees so he can push back, so he can slow the pace.

“No,” Daichi snaps, nudging his legs back together and grinding down so hard they both slide forward by a couple of inches. “I decide. Didn’t you say you could take me?”

“Yes,” Kuroo gasps, sweat gleaming at his temple. “Yes, but I -”

“What? Overestimated yourself, Kuroo?”

“No, I just - don’t want to - Sawamura -”

Daichi slows a little, leaning closer to Kuroo’s mouth so he can hear. “You don’t want to what?”

“I don’t - want to come like this,” Kuroo pants.

“Oh?” Daichi stops moving, and Kuroo groans again as he squeezes his length. “How do you want to come, then?”

“Want you to - to fuck me,” Kuroo says, and god, if that’s isn’t the hottest thing Daichi’s heard tonight, the prince sounding so wavering, so wanting, as he asks to be fucked.

And that sparks an idea. “Is that right?” Daichi says, stroking him slow and heavy, reveling in the way he rocks into it. “I can do that - if you ask nicely.”

“If I -” Kuroo twists a little to look back at him. “I just did!”

“Let me rephrase that.” Daichi bites one of the bruises from before, sucking hard, tongue pressed hot against Kuroo’s skin until he’s almost whining, the grind of his hips getting faster, before shifting to his ear and whispering, “I’d like you to beg me to fuck you, your highness.”

“ _Sawamura_ ,” Kuroo moans. “Fuck, fuck, are you kidding me -”

Daichi pulls his hand away entirely, swiftly pinning Kuroo’s wrists and pushing his head back down with the other hand. “Do I seem like I’m kidding?”

Kuroo wrenches at his strong grip fruitlessly. “Fine,” he pants. “Fine - please fuck me, Sawamura.”

“Mm, doesn’t sound too convincing,” Daichi says, starting to lazily rut against Kuroo’s ass again.

“Please,” Kuroo grits out. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Still not enough. Fail a third time, and I’ll have no problem leaving you just like this, your highness.” Daichi kisses the back of his head. “Aching for me, all alone in this big bed.”

“You wouldn’t,” Kuroo says instantly.

“Do you really want to find out?”

There’s a second’s pause before Kuroo takes a long, shuddering breath. “Daichi,” he says, and his voice, usually almost as deep as Daichi’s own, is suddenly thin and soft and almost trembling. “Daichi, please, _please_ fuck me, I want you, I want you so _much_ , I’ll - I’ll be so good for you, please, would you -”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Daichi groans, grabbing Kuroo’s shoulder and making him roll over. Kuroo looks up at him, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he lies with his hands curled loosely by his head, so open and pliant and so fucking pretty that it stokes the flames blazing in the pit of Daichi’s stomach to a roar. He braces himself over Kuroo on one elbow, settling his weight on one of Kuroo’s thighs and grinding down as slowly as he can manage, forcing himself not to give in so quickly. He’s nowhere near done with his prince yet.

“Good boy,” he whispers, tracing down Kuroo’s cheek, watching his eyes flutter shut. “I knew you could do it.”

“So you’ll fuck me, Sawamura?” Still that aching voice, so soft and tentative, and god, the things it’s doing to Daichi’s self control -

_Wait - back to Sawamura?_

Daichi’s hips stutter to a stop as he stares down at Kuroo. He looks like the picture of compliance, his chest heaving gently, eyes still closed as he waits for Daichi to touch him, but - is it his mouth that’s off? The curve of his mouth, yes, he’s biting his lip not because he’s aroused, or shy, but because he’s trying not to smile _that_ smile.

 _This fucking asshole_ , Daichi realizes, suddenly on the verge of laughter. So he figured if he acted the part well enough he’d be able to maneuver Daichi into doing what he wanted?

He sits back and tugs Kuroo’s towel off entirely, tossing it somewhere on the floor, and opens the tie of his own juban. “You sneaky bastard,” he says, pulling the slim tie out of its loops entirely. Kuroo’s eyes open, flickering to his hands and then his face with a hint of dawning uncertainty. “If you wanted that to work, you should have stuck to Daichi.”

“What -”

Daichi grabs his wrists like earlier, but this time pins them against the wooden lattice of the headboard and expertly loops the tie around them. “There,” he says, tugging it firm, testing it to make sure it’s not too tight. “Now you’re all mine.”

“I almost had you, didn’t I?” Kuroo says with a fair attempt at composure, but he’s flushed all the way down to his chest as Daichi deliberately drags his gaze down his body and up again.

“Almost,” Daichi says, smiling sweetly as he shrugs off his juban and drops it over the side of the bed. Kuroo immediately drags his gaze down his body like Daichi had just done to him, but seems to realize it’s not quite as effective when he’s splayed out and tied up like this.

“You’re cute, your highness,” Daichi grins, leaning forward again and planting a hand on his chest, pressing him down into the bed. “You really think that would get me flustered?”

Kuroo meets his gaze steadily. “Tetsurou,” he says.

“What?”

“Call me Tetsurou - Daichi. Please.”

His eyes are dark and serious. This is separate from the game they’re playing, Daichi realizes.

“Tetsurou,” he says, tasting the name on his tongue, and Kuroo - and Tetsurou’s lips part, just a fraction. “All right. You wanted me to fuck you, yes?”

“Yes,” Tetsurou breathes.

Daichi taps his hip. “Are you cleaned out?”

“Yes, I did it before.”

Daichi raises an eyebrow, watching Tetsurou’s flush darken over his cheekbones as he realizes what he just said. “Before? So you were hoping to end up like this - with me - from the minute you walked into the room?”

Tetsurou opens his mouth to snap a retort, but Daichi narrows his eyes and leans on his hand, letting the pressure become heavier, and he swallows. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Good, Tetsurou,” Daichi murmurs. “You wouldn’t have liked what I would’ve done to you if you’d been rude again.”

Tetsurou shivers, just a little, and Daichi smiles. “You must have some kind of oil or something here, yes?”

“Right there,” Tetsurou says, nodding to the chest of drawers beside the bed. “Back of the second drawer.”

It’s a bottle of lightly scented oil, half-empty when Daichi fishes it out. “You use this a lot?” he says. “I know you haven’t slept with anyone in this room in a long time.”

Tetsurou lifts his chin. “I don’t have to have someone else with me to use it.”

“Ahh,” Daichi says softly. “Poor prince, all alone, no one with him to make him feel as good as he deserves.” He shifts forward, bracing an arm by Tetsurou’s head once more and resting their foreheads together. Tetsurou’s breath ghosts over his lips. “Who did you think about, when you touched yourself in this bed?”

“I thought about you,” Tetsurou says, just as softly. He reaches up for a kiss, trying to meet Daichi’s mouth, but Daichi moves away, hovering just out of reach. Tetsurou makes a frustrated sound, falling back against the pillow. “I used to think about you,” he says again. “About what it would be like to make you laugh. About what you might be like at home, without the sword, when you didn’t have to worry about my safety every second of every day. You’d relax, I used to think, you’d cook dinner, you might sing as you cooked, and if I was with you, if I was just some other normal person living in this city, you’d let me into your home, let me push you against the wall, let me take off your clothes and kiss your neck . . .”

He trails off as Daichi nuzzles under his jaw. “Keep going,” Daichi says, quiet but firm.

Tetsurou closes his eyes. “You’d let me touch you,” he says, a little hoarse now. “You’d let me call you Daichi. You’d let me kneel in front of you and kiss you wherever I wanted, and you’d lie on the bed when you were tired but you still wanted me, pull me on top of you and praise me as I - as I fucked you, slow and easy, and you’d tell me that I make you feel better than anyone ever has before.”

Daichi’s heart goes tight in a way he can’t explain, and he has to take a second before he can speak. “Perfect,” he says, meeting Tetsurou’s half-vulnerable, half-defiant gaze. “Such a good boy for me, Tetsurou, telling me all that, being so honest.” Tetsurou relaxes, and tilts his head back willingly for Daichi to kiss down the column of his neck and back up again.

“We can talk about that later, what you told me,” Daichi murmurs into his skin. “But for now, I’m going to make you feel so good, okay?”

“Please,” Tetsurou whispers back.

So Daichi kisses his way down his body, feeling the rise and fall of his stomach under his mouth before settling at his hips. Tetsurou’s dick is red against his skin, leaking slowly as it stands stiff. Daichi slicks his fingers in oil and pushes one into Tetsurou carefully, and, once he’s relaxed, bends his head and takes the tip of his dick into his mouth.

“Oh,” Tetsurou moans softly, his hips rising a little off the bed. "Ah -"  
  
Daichi puts his free hand on his hip, flashing him a warning look, and he settles back down reluctantly. Daichi gives a hum of approval, flicking his tongue across the tip as he pushes his finger in deeper. Tetsurou moans again, breathless, but doesn’t move.

Daichi keeps most of his attention on working Tetsurou open, using a second finger when he seems ready for it, not taking much more of him into his mouth. Tetsurou is visibly frustrated by this, but he’s how Daichi wants him now, trusting and submitting without question, without the reservations he’d held onto before. He doesn’t let his hips rise again, even though his thighs clench with the effort, and it makes his voice grow more and more ragged the longer Daichi keeps him there.

“Daichi, please,” he says, his hands curled into shaking fists. “I can’t - I need -”

“You can hold out, can’t you?” Daichi slips off to say, kissing one thigh. “My brave boy, you can wait for me.”

The sound Tetsurou makes is almost a sob at _brave boy_ , and he tugs at the restraint. “I can’t, I can’t,” he says. “I want - I need -”

Daichi tries to add a third finger, and his face contorts in pain. “You’re not ready,” Daichi says, adding some more oil before trying again. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I still have so much to do to you, Tetsurou. Just be patient.”

Tetsurou turns his head away, the line of his throat tight, and is silent as Daichi keeps working him open. Daichi doesn’t touch his dick this time, figuring it only makes it harder for him to hold it together, instead resting his chin on Tetsurou’s bent knee and watching the expressions that flit across his face to make sure he’s comfortable.

“I’m ready,” Tetsurou says eventually. “Daichi -”

“Sure?” Daichi says, already reaching down to snag his juban and wiping his fingers on the edge of it.

“Yes, yes, I am, I’m sure -

“Okay,” Daichi chuckles. “Patience.”

He pours some of the oil into his palm and moves down the bed, kissing Tetsurou’s left ankle as he slicks up his own dick. He’s so hard, he almost winces at the feeling of his fingers, but he quickly gets accustomed to it enough that he’s more panting than kissing his way up Tetsurou’s leg.

“ _Daichi_ ,” Tetsurou moans as he leaves hot bites on the inside of his thigh. “Daichi, _please_ -”

Daichi almost moans himself at how Tetsurou sounds like that, truly begging, but he swallows it, putting Tetsurou’s legs around his waist and his hands on Tetsurou’s hips, his own knees spread wide as he kneels there.

“Ready?”

“ _Yes_ , will you just - _ah!_ ”

Daichi spits a string of curses, his head falling forward as he struggles to get used to how Tetsurou feels around him. He’s so hot, so fucking tight, Daichi can’t remember the last time he felt this, _fuck_ -

“You okay?” he hears Tetsurou ask.

“I need a minute,” he gasps. “Don’t move -”

Tetsurou chuckles, and Daichi nearly bites through his tongue as he clenches around him.

“Tetsurou, fuck - !”

“Sorry,” Tetsurou says, not sounding sorry at all, the laugh still in his voice. Oh, he’s absolutely going to pay for that, once Daichi is capable of moving.

Which he is, after a minute or two of Tetsurou giving him impatient looks. The edge of the feeling fades, and he plants his hands more firmly, exhaling.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, yes -”

Daichi pulls back and thrusts in one smooth motion, and both of them groan in unison.

“Good, good, that’s good,” Tetsurou pants, his heels digging insistently into Daichi’s back as he pulls back again. “Dai - _ah_ -”

Daichi sets a steady pace, as fast as he can make it without Tetsurou’s heat overwhelming him, and doesn’t slow down. Tetsurou’s head tips back helplessly, the ends of the tie a pretty white against the skin of his arms, soft, panting cries falling from his lips. His arms are taut as he strains to rut back against Daichi, his dick rubbing against Daichi’s stomach, the muscles of his long, lovely thighs tight at Daichi’s waist.

He’d half expected Tetsurou to return to goading remarks, given how his impatience had seemed to be overtaking his docility earlier, but he seems utterly lost in the sensation as Daichi continues to fuck into him. He’s turned his face into the pillow, his eyes shut tight, and that flush is blooming on his skin again.

“Hey,” Daichi pants, shifting a little further up his body to try and get a look at his face. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Tetsurou gasps, not looking up. “Yes, yes, yes, it’s good, so good -”

“Look at me, then,” Daichi says, leaving one hand at his waist to keep him steady and curling the other through his hair.

Tetsurou shakes his head once. _A little overwhelmed?_ Daichi thinks. _Let’s distract him, then._

“Look at you, all - shy and blushing for me now,” Daichi says, his breath coming in short pants, grinning down at Tetsurou as one eye opens to glare at him. “So pretty, Tetsurou - where was this modesty when you were - riling me up for the last six months?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Tetsurou pants, turning to face him fully now. “Kiss me, let me - touch you, let me - please, I want -”

“So that’s it.” Daichi lets his pace slow a little as he glances up at where Tetsurou is pulling tight against the tie. “It’s bugging you, hm?”

“I want to touch you,” Tetsurou says, his heels pressing harder into Daichi’s back, a silent demand to go faster. “Please?”

“The tie stays.” Daichi tightens his fingers in Tetsurou’s hair and thrusts into him slower than before, noting with interest that Tetsurou manages to look hot even when his expression is one of frustrated pleasure. “I like how you look like this, all laid out for me.”

“Then let me kiss you,” he says, and there’s real desperation bleeding through, now. “Daichi -”

Daichi shifts so his mouth is hovering right over Tetsurou’s, their breath mingling. “After everything you put me through,” he murmurs, “do you really think you deserve to be kissed?”

“What do you want, an apology?” It’s strained, but still snarky.

And there it is, the return of his sharp tongue. Daichi is fairly surprised he managed to last this long being so meek, and entirely delighted to be able to punish him for breaking the rules.

“Do you know,” he whispers, right by Tetsurou’s ear, “what you did to me when you licked that honey off the Fukurodani prince’s wrist today? What you did to me every time you took off your clothes like I wasn’t in the room? How many times I’ve had to stop myself from dragging you out of court and fucking you until you couldn’t walk because of the way you sit when you wear that slitted robe?” Tetsurou whines high in his throat as Daichi fucks into him excruciatingly slowly and, staying buried in him, lets his fingertips trace his cheek and his thumb settle against his mouth. “I don’t think you deserve to be kissed at all, sweet thing. Don’t you agree?”

Tetsurou’s lips part easily around his thumb. He licks it with just the tip of his tongue, eyes locked with Daichi’s, and Daichi can almost feel half the blood in his brain rush to his dick.

“Please,” he says, with this soft little hitch in his breath, with this melting look that would have Daichi on his knees at any other time -

\- but he’s in charge now, and he knows that was entirely intentional, completely calculated.

“Brat,” he murmurs, leaning down to tug at briefly one of his earrings with his teeth as he removes his hand from Tetsurou’s mouth. “‘No. This is your punishment.”

“You already have my hands tied, Daichi, come on, please -”

“And if your hands were free, what would you do?” Daichi pushes himself back and sits on his heels, pulling out halfway, and Tetsurou traps a groan behind his teeth. Daichi lays both his hands on his neck and lets his head fall back, his eyes closing as he trails them down slowly, smoothing down his chest, his stomach, and each of his thighs before bringing them back up again and into his hair. He skims the fingertips of one hand back down, lightly tracing the curve of his face, and arches his back as he bites the tip of an index finger.

“Like this, your highness?” he says, pitching his voice deep, almost moaning. “Would you touch me like this, would you touch me exactly how I tell you to?”

Tetsurou curses violently, straining to keep his head up to see. “Yes, yes, yes, god, yes, anything, everything you want -”

Daichi ignores him and reaches down to pinch his own nipple, biting his lip at how good it feels, a spark of dull pain to ground him in the pleasure.

Tetsurou’s voice jumps higher. “Daichi, _Daichi_ , please, let me, I’ll -”

Daichi braces himself over him once more, and Tetsurou’s voice is lost in a cry as he slams back into him. “You still need to be punished,” he whispers. “Bear with it, prince.”

“ _Please -_ ”

“Louder,” Daichi pants, thrusting into him hard and fast. “Be louder, be good for me, then maybe -”

“Dai - chi - ah, ah, ah - _hah, god_ -”

“ _Louder_ , or - ah - or I’ll stop -”

 _I don’t think I can physically stop_ , Daichi thinks hazily, his mind swamped by a cloud of arousal, but Tetsurou’s body bends like a bow for him, he cries out louder for him, tugs harder against the tie binding his wrists, he’s so beautiful, he’s everything Daichi wanted -

“Don’t - stop - I - _ah_ , oh, I can’t, I _can’t_ \- I’m going - to -”

He sounds so good like this, desperate and dizzy with pleasure, and a moan is ripped from Daichi’s throat, just as wanton as his. “Come for me, then,” he pants against Tetsurou’s temple. “Beautiful thing, so good for me, so pretty, so good, come for me, let me hear you -”

He yanks Tetsurou’s head back with a hand in his hair, biting his throat fiercely while his other arm slides under Tetsurou’s hips and tilts them up, letting him fuck into him harder, faster, deeper - once, twice, thrice, four times -

Tetsurou’s cry of pleasure almost echoes off the damn ceiling as he comes, his back arcing beautifully off the bed. It only takes Daichi two more thrusts to follow him, moaning Tetsurou’s name into his neck, shuddering through the bliss of it before going boneless against his chest.

They lie there for a few seconds, panting, before Daichi manages to push himself up. Tetsurou looks utterly wrecked, his hair a mess, bruises littering the line of his throat, eyes hazy and half-lidded, his hands still tied up.

“Fuck, look at you,” Daichi says softly, hiding a wince as he pulls out.

“I’m sure I look like a mess,” Tetsurou says hoarsely.

“A very pretty one.” Daichi drops a kiss on his forehead as he reaches up to undo the tie.

Tetsurou’s hands drop once they’re free, limp like he’s forgotten how to use them. “Thanks, I think,” he mumbles, his eyes closing.

Daichi lets him rest, using his juban to wipe off the worst of the mess between them. “I’m going to go wash off, your highness,” he says, wondering if he’s still allowed to use Tetsurou’s name. “Is that all right?”

Tetsurou waves a vague hand, so Daichi heads to the prince’s bathroom and rinses off quickly in the bathing space. When he goes back to the room, he finds Tetsurou sitting up, waiting for him.

“Use this,” he says, handing Daichi one of his own jubans. “Your own is in no shape to be worn.”

“Your highness, I can’t take -”

“I’m back to giving orders, Daichi,” he says, smiling slightly as he drops it in Daichi’s lap. “Take it.”

Daichi opens his mouth and closes it, at a loss for words, as Tetsurou disappears into the bathroom. _Might as well wear it_ , he decides. He slips it on and settles with his legs crossed and his back to the headboard, wondering what’s going to happen next, how soon he might be told to leave.

Tetsurou doesn’t give him much time to worry about it, though. He comes out in a couple of minutes, wearing a juban identical to the one Daichi has on, and heads straight for Daichi.

“So,” he says, swinging a leg over Daichi’s knees to settle solidly in his lap. “Look what you did to my hands, Sawamura-san.” He holds up his wrists, and there are deep red lines marking the skin.

“That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t kept pulling them,” Daichi says, a pang of guilt making the words half-hearted. He grasps Tetsurou’s wrists, pressing his mouth to them tenderly. “But I’m sorry.”

Tetsurou cups his face with both hands, his palms rough and warm. “You should be,” he says, and firmly tilts Daichis face up.

Tetsurou kisses him deeply, with a soft, simmering heat, like Daichi is his to devour as slowly and as easily as he wants, like he’s taking something he is owed. Daichi wraps his arms around his waist, and lets Tetsurou drink him in. He would give him everything, anything that was asked of him in this moment, still buzzing with fading pleasure and aching affection. But all that is being demanded is this kiss, so he lets Tetsurou claim his mouth as he pleases and loses himself, so easily, in the taste of him.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when Tetsurou finally releases him. There’s only a faint dizziness from the kiss, warmth from Tetsurou’s body against his own, warmth in the amber eyes looking into Daichi’s.

“I can’t believe you fucked me to within an inch of my life and didn’t kiss me _once_ ,” Tetsurou says, and Daichi laughs.

“You did deserve it,” he says.

“Mm, I suppose I did.” Tetsurou kisses down the line of his jaw, quick little presses of his lips that leave Daichi’s skin tingling. “My poor bodyguard, in such torment for so long.”

“You have no _fucking_ idea,” Daichi says with feeling. “Who allowed you to be so attractive?”

Tetsurou laughs, his hands settling back on Daichi’s cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But in my defense, it was also your fault.”

“I don’t remember ever deliberately baiting you, Tetsu - your highness.”

“Tetsurou is fine,” Tetsurou says softly, resting their foreheads together. “I’d like you to call me that, at least when we’re alone together.”

“Understood,” Daichi murmurs, closing his eyes, thinking, _And when will we be together like this again?_

Tetsurou’s back is strong under his hands, rising and falling gently with each breath, and his voice hums through his body when he speaks. “And no, you didn’t bait me, but what else was I supposed to do to get the attention of my handsome, stoic guard?”

“Literally a million other things,” Daichi says, struggling not to smile. “Talking to me would have been a good start.”

Tetsurou chuckles softly. “My poor bodyguard,” he murmurs again, and Daichi turns his head to nuzzle into his palm, eyes still closed. “But I think I’ve paid the price, yes?”

“ . . . You have.”

“Kiss me next time, then.”

Daichi smiles broadly, relief flooding through him, and knows, without looking, that Tetsurou is smiling as well. “I definitely will.”

“Good.” Tetsurou kisses his nose lightly, a thumb stroking over Daichi’s cheek.

“And . . . Tetsurou?”

“Yes?”

“You . . made me feel better than anyone has before.”

Tetsurou goes still for a moment, and then he buries his face in Daichi’s neck, settling his hands on his chest and curling up against him. “I’ll make you feel even better next time, don’t worry,” he says, and the words are playful but his voice is light with happiness.

“I don’t doubt it.” Daichi hugs his shoulders, resting his cheek in his hair. “ And I don’t sing when I cook, but if you wanted me to, I wouldn’t mind.”

“If I came to your house?”

“Mhm.”

“I’d love to, Daichi.” Tetsurou squeezes Daichi’s waist tight with one arm, and Daichi kisses the top of his head.

“Your highness would have to learn to cook, though,” he says. “I’m not going to do all the work.”

“Teach me,” Tetsurou laughs, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll learn.”

The conversation drifts gradually, their words beginning to slur as they get drowsier and the lamps begin to flicker. With Tetsurou settled against him so comfortably, Daichi doesn’t need much convincing to fall asleep in his bed.

“What about Lev? He’ll notice I didn’t come out of your room,” is his only objection, and Tetsurou smiles a sharp smile.

“Lev will keep his mouth shut or lose his head,” he says. “Don’t worry about him.”

“Tetsurou, you can’t just -”

Tetsurou ignores his weak attempt to sound stern, getting out of Daichi’s lap to lie down.

“Worry about it in the morning, Daichi,” he murmurs, pulling Daichi down into his chest and running his hand soothingly down his back.

And that is how they fall asleep that night, the prince and his bodyguard - content, intertwined, and inseparable.

**Author's Note:**

> and they were boyfriends <3  
> Any kind of feedback is always very much appreciated ^.^ Thank you for reading! You can find me [here](https://yaelathewordsmith.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and [here](https://twitter.com/writer_yaela) on Twitter just to chat or for commission info!


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